


all i ever wanted (was the world)

by toplinson (crybaby)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Gay Sex, M/M, Pageant Queen Harry, Some lirry, Some narry, Some zarry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-18
Updated: 2013-03-18
Packaged: 2017-12-05 17:57:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/726169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crybaby/pseuds/toplinson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p></p><div class="center">
  <p><br/><i>Harry hiccups and looks up to him, blinking his wet eyes slowly, thinking he understands what he’s saying. “I want this more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my entire life.” </i><br/>(Harry is a pageant queen and he cheats by fucking a judge)</p>
</div>
            </blockquote>





	all i ever wanted (was the world)

**Author's Note:**

> A Birthday present to my bestie, Marisha 
> 
> **DISCLAIMER: I don't own anyone or anything.**

It all starts when he’s six and he wins the Mini Mister Peggity Pageant. From the moment the sash is over his shoulders and the plastic tiara is atop his straight hair, he knows that this is what he wants to do for the rest of his life.

  
His mum captures the whole event on camera, the video shaky from Julia crawling all over her while she filmed, but even through the shake and blur, you can see the look in Harry’s eyes as he waves to the crowd of parents gathered in the ballroom of the nearest hotel. 

  
His father hangs a shelf above his drawers, big enough to hold about nine trophies, which is more than they anticipate Harry winning. 

  
Harry’s first trophy sits in the centre, sash hung over the corner of the shelf. He stares at the new shelf and makes a promise to himself that he will fill it up with his trophies one day. 

  
+

  
By the time he’s ten, his father has to make and hang a new shelf. 

  
+

  
He’s thirteen when he wins Mister Holmes Chapel Junior, earning a crown, a sash, a trophy and a spread on the Sunday newspaper front page.

  
He also earns a ‘swirly’ from the boys at school and a bruise to his cheek before he’s locked in a classroom, face caked in cheap make-up. He holds his head high until the security guard unlocks the door on his evening patrol and lets him go home.

  
Harry tells his parents that he was with a friend and lost track of the time, his face pink from the aggressive scrubbing in the school loos. 

  
His mum ruffles his hair and tells him dinner is almost ready and he nods, going upstairs and sitting down at his dressing table, plastic prize-tiara atop his new curls. 

  
He practises his smile and his wave in the mirror until he’s called for supper.

  
+

  
He’s seventeen and holding a bouquet of roses, waving at the crowd as his crown is placed on his head and his sash is straightened out, the flash of cameras almost blinding.

  
His family is front row and Zayn is seated next to his father, grin on his handsome face. Harry smiles to them and his mum wipes away tears while his sister doesn’t even try to hide that she’s texting rather than watching.

  
The trophy is huge and he thinks he’s going to have to make some space in the trophy cabinet in the lounge for his Young Mister Cheshire trophy.

  
He takes off his bowtie in the car and runs his fingers over the glittery plastic parts of his trophy, his father blaring _We Are The Champions_ so that all other drivers stare at them funny. Harry and Zayn steal quick kisses in the backseat and Julia gags while his mum snaps photos for her album. 

  
 _The day Harry won over all the boys in Cheshire_ could be a likely title for the page in her scrapbook.  
Zayn squeezes his hand and Harry knows that he’s ready.

  
When they get back they set the trophy on the kitchen counter and his father pops open the champagne he’d bought in case Harry won and Harry drinks from a plastic cup because there aren’t enough flutes. 

  
The family calls it a night in the early morning and Harry’s tired but he pulls Zayn into his bedroom and he closes the door, kissing him softly as he undoes his own shirt buttons and pulls at Zayn’s jersey before they’re on his bed and then they’re naked and warm under his covers and Harry feels amazing.

  
+

  
He’s twenty and wiping at his tears furiously as he is handed his trophy after being crowned Young England. He shakes the hands of his fellow contestants, his own hands shaking in disbelief as cameras flash and he smiles to the large crowd. 

  
Liam smiles at him while his mum blows into a handkerchief, his father looking more proud than he’s ever seen. Harry beams at them as he takes his walk down the platform.

  
His mum shoves her video camera in his face as soon as they come backstage, capturing his wet eyes and grin brighter than trafalgar at night.

  
They drive back to the hotel, his father blaring _We Are The Champions_ as tradition goes.

  
Julia is back home due to her finals and Harry’s mum and dad wave them goodnight as they climb off the lift to get to their room while Harry and Liam stay in the lift for another floor before Liam catches Harry by surprise and hoists him over his shoulder, carrying him down the passage and to their suite.

  
He chucks Harry onto the large bed and they’re both giggling and Harry feels a little light-headed as Liam starts kissing him, his hands heavy on his hips and his lips warm and soft. Harry wraps an arm around his neck and smiles as Liam presses a hand to the small of his back. 

  
+

  
Harry adjusts the strap of his duffle on his shoulder, chewing into his lip as he reads the names on the different doors. Each name is printed on a small slip of white paper, flag printed next to each name, very easy to miss.

  
Harry’s nearing the end of the passageway when he decides he must have missed his name and he needs to go back and check, but then there it is. Last door, underneath the name _N. Horan_ with a little Irish flag next to it.

  
He knocks before entering, peeking his head around the door before he walks in completely. 

  
There’s a bag open with contents spilling out, on the one bed nearest to the bathroom and an open by the sliding door to outside. Harry smiles and sets his bag down on the empty one, sitting down on the edge of the bed as the taps run in the  bathroom. 

The bathroom door opens and a man steps out, hair dark blonde and eyes bright blue. He double takes at Harry on his bed and Harry double takes at his eyes and his insides twist because he isn’t good enough to be there and the man smiles and extends a hand.

  
His teeth are perfectly straight and whitened and he can tell that braces were involved in getting his teeth into the same class as flippers. Harry’s hand almost shoots up to cover his own mouth, his lower teeth slightly skew. They hadn’t seen it necessary for Harry to get braces as a child but now that he’s older, every slightly skew tooth is the difference between a win and a second place.

  
“Hi, m’Niall.” The man says, shaking Harry’s hand with a firm grip.

  
“Harry.” He replies, Niall going to sit on his own bed.

  
“You’re England, right?” Niall asks, digging around in his bag before he pulls out a tangle of phone cord, plugging the charger in at the wall before he plugs in his phone. Harry watches his hands move as he nods, trying to work out his talent. 

  
It could be singing, but his voice doesn’t sound breathtaking enough for that to be it. His fingers are agile and Harry just hopes that Niall isn’t a baton twirler or else he might just pull out before he goes through the shame of losing.

  
“So Harry,” Niall asks, getting off the bed and going to the mini fridge by the television. He pulls the door open and pulls out a beer. Harry thinks of the calories and cringes. “you drink?”

  
Harry gulps.

  
+

  
“Mum, I can’t do this. Everyone here is so much better than me and I’ll never beat them. I’m so ugly compared to them Mummy. There’s one boy here with red hair, Mum. Red hair! And all I’ve got is brown. And I swear my hair is getting straighter! I think I’m going to have to start wearing curlers soon. 

  
“There’s another baton twirler Mummy. But I think I’m better because he isn’t at all flexible, he just has nimble fingers. And there’s this other boy who has a perfect body and he’s good at the dances and he’s singing as his talent and I know I can’t beat him.

  
“My roommate’s nice though. He’s Irish and he eats like a pig and drinks like an elephant and he doesn’t gain a single pound. It’s not fair Mummy, I’m tired of counting calories and living in the gym. I don’t even want to have big muscles.

  
“Walter has been gentle with me though. I think he senses my nerves. He showed me all my costumes yesterday and he said he wanted to try a different shade of lipstick for the swimwear. 

  
“Sorry Mummy, I’ve got to go. We’re trying to learn a new dance and I just can’t get it. Send my love to Jules and Daddy and remind him to feed the fish. Love you.”

  
+

  
“You’ll be just fine.” Niall soothes, petting his hair and rubbing his back while Harry breathes out through his nose. 

  
“Easy for you to say,” Harry murmurs, “You’re funny and you have a sweet accent. The camera will love you. I should just quit while I’m ahead.”

  
“Shut up, you git. You’re adorable and you have a raspy voice. You’re special and everyone will love you and everyone will vote for you. Don’t worry. And don’t you dare start that camera bullshit with me, I’ve seen your newspaper clippings and the camera is obsessed with you. You’re going to be brilliant Harry, you’ll be amazing.”

  
Harry smiles up at him, blinking back the fogginess in his eyes before he wraps his arms around his neck and sighs against his skin. “Thank you Niall.”

  
Niall pats his back and pushes him off, straightening his t-shirt underneath his jacket. Harry smiles and copies him, smoothing the union jack shirt over his tummy. 

 

“Places!” A man with a clipboard calls and Harry takes a deep breath. 

  
Niall gives him a smile before pulling him back to his place in the line, leaving Harry to go stand at the back. One of the Welshmen smiles at Harry and fixes his collar before he’s turning around and they’re being led onstage. 

  
The crowd screams and the lights are bright and the cameras are big and scary and Harry looks up at the sky and hopes it won’t rain because that would really make things worse. 

  
The presenter opens up the show and the crowd screams louder and Harry’s shaking so much that the one of the other British contestants squeezes his shoulder before their music starts and Harry’s struggling to keep up.

  
He catches Niall’s eyes halfway through and he looks alive, his eyes the brightest blue and his smile pure and wide. Harry smiles back at him and decides he can do this.

  
Harry’s eleventh in the queue for questions so while the others go on, he’s rushed backstage so Walter can start on redoing his make-up and changing costume. 

  
Niall’s on fifth and Harry watches him live on the little television hung up on the wall, smiling when Niall blushes and the crowd coos. 

  
Harry recites different answers for different questions in his head as Walter brushes his hair, pulling hard so his hair puffs up into fluffy ringlets. He covers his eyes as he’s sprayed over in hairspray, quickly followed by perfume. 

  
Then he’s having his shirt buttoned up and he’s being pushed onstage. 

  
He takes a seat on the lone stool, crossing one leg over the other and leaning in to tap on the microphone. The crowd chuckles and Harry feels his cheeks colouring. 

  
The presenter speaks to him like a toddler and asks him easy questions and Harry answers with cookie-cutter responses of “World peace!” and “A walk on the beach would be my perfect date!” and he doesn’t want to get big-headed but he thinks the crowd likes him. 

  
“Thank you Harry. Would you mind giving us one last smile?” The presenter asks, looking more to the crowd and the camera than at Harry.

  
Harry giggles into the microphone and hears a collective aw before he smiles to the masses, smiling big and broad so his dimples dent his cheeks.

  
He surveys the judges while he smiles to tries and absorb their opinions and he sees mostly smiling faces in return, except one face that isn’t painted with a smile. No, there is one face painted with a raised eyebrow and a grin Harry can’t describe as anything other than hunger.

  
He can’t see a face properly with all the lights and before he can get a good look he’s being herded from the stage.

  
+

  
The next show is held in the daytime in town square. 

  
The crowd is large and the day is warm, the sun peeking out from behind fluffy clouds for long periods of time. There is a slight breeze that adds a nip to the air, making goose bumps rise on Harry’s legs.

He knows his costume is perhaps a bit risky, but he thinks it adds to the whole effect of his baton twirling. His shorts are up to his waist and sit just under his bum so he can kick his legs high and move around without much fear of a tear in the fabric. He wears a tight, cropped jacket, buttoned up to his neck, and a hat on top of his head. 

  
At first he had worried that the cream colour of his outfit would blend in with his skin colour, but after much consoling from Walter, he feels confident. And of course the gold embellishments do just make the costume that bit sweeter.

  
Niall pats his back before he goes on, his shoes making a soft patter against the hollow floor. Harry listens to the applause as Niall dances, hearing catcalls and shouts of encouragement. Harry smiles for his friend.

  
Walter lets Harry use him to warm up, Harry swinging a leg onto his shoulder and stretching his muscles. He practises his kicks and his bends, doing a quick cartwheel as practise. Walter pats him on the back when it’s time for him to go onstage. 

  
He smiles and waves at the crowd, getting into position and smiling at the crowd. His music starts and he starts routine.

  
All seems fine and he manages all his flips and twirls and he throws his baton high and catches it without fault. He does the cartwheel with baton in hand before he throws it up and catches it. The crowd is on fire with cheering and Harry feels on top of the world as he goes into his last stunt. A tricky flip which involves throwing the baton in the air, doing the flip then catching it. Harry has always had trouble with it but he’s been working hard to perfect it.

  
He throws up, jumps, flips and lands with two feet, reaching to catch the baton, and.

  
It drops.

  
The whole world seems to freeze as it clatters to the stage, landing just next to his feet. Harry feels the tears welling up and he hears the crowd gasp but he quickly bends down and picks it up, lifting it above his head and smiling as the crowd cheers for him, perhaps not as loud as they could have been. 

  
He looks to the judges before he’s led off, seeing a cringe, a grimace, a sorry smile and a smirk. He doesn’t have the heart to look any of them in the eye as the presenter pats his back. 

  
As soon as he’s offstage he’s crying, wiping his eyes with his jacket sleeve and sniffling. Niall gives him a hug and Walter brings his cellphone, squeezing his shoulder as the phone rings. Harry smiles at both of them before holding the phone to his ear and looking for somewhere to go sit. 

  
He slides down a wall as his mum picks up and he sniffles. “Oh Chicken,” She sighs and Harry hiccups.

  
“I can’t do this Mummy. I messed up.” Harry whispers, his voice clogged and wet. 

  
“It wasn’t that bad, pet.” She coos, her voice warm and sounding like home. Harry just wants her to hug him and put on a film to make him forget. 

  
“I’m definitely going out. I might as well start packing my bags already.” He sighs, wiping his nose on the expensive fabric and regretting it instantly. 

  
“Don’t talk like that Chick, the crowd loves you. You could be voted into staying.”

  
“The audience votes only count fifty percent Mum. It’s all the in the judges hands. You should have seen their faces, I’m definitely coming home.” He says into the receiver, voice small as tears flow down his cheeks. “I should have listened to Daddy and never have done the trick. Now my whole career is ruined all because I can’t do anything. I’m going to have to become a teacher.” He says, slumping against the wall and pressing his cheek to the wallpaper, folding himself small.

  
“Don’t talk like that darling, we all have our days. So what if you don’t make it through to the top fifteen. You’ll come home and I’ll make you a nice dinner and we can make a Christmas bed and maybe invite Liam over? The poor boy has been calling non-stop saying he misses you.”

  
Harry smiles and picks at the pale skin at the tops of his thighs, feeling safe and warm with the sound of his mum’s voice soothing him. “Okay Mummy, I like the sound of that.”

  
“Sorry, mind if I sit?” A male voice says from next to Harry and Harry nods against the wall, not having the energy to look up and reply. 

  
The man slides down the wall to sit next to him, keeping a small amount of distance between them and looking forward. Harry traces over his profile as his mum blabbers on over the phone. 

  
“Sorry Mummy, I think I have to go.” He whispers into the receiver, eyes tracing over the man’s jaw.

  
His mum puts down first and he clutches his phone tight in his hand as the man clears his voice and turns his head to look at him. Harry sniffles as he meets blue eyes that give Niall’s a run for their money. 

  
“That was a quite a drop out there.” He states and Harry hums, curling to face him more, knees to his chest.

  
“Aren’t you a judge?” He asks softly, expecting the man to tell him he needs to leave immediately.

  
The man smiles and ignores the question. “What you were saying on the phone was pretty accurate.” Harry bites his lip and looks down, the elastic of his stupid hat pinching his skin. “The other judges don’t think you should be here, but you see, I do.”  
Harry closes his eyes and chews on his lip. “I could help you, if you wanted. I could make them change their minds so that you stay.” Harry nods, every so slightly, just to show that he’s listening. “I just need to know how badly you want to stay, how badly you want to win.”

  
Harry hiccups and looks up to him, blinking his wet eyes slowly, thinking he understands what he’s saying. “I want this more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my entire life.” 

  
The judge smiles.

  
“Come with me.” He says as he pushes himself up, holding out a hand for Harry to take.

  
Harry feels like a child, being led behind a beautiful man with sharp features and tall hair dressed in a fitted suit while he’s just a boy in makeup and a skimpy costume. 

  
He pulls him to a dressing room with _L. Tomlinson_ stuck on in the centre. He closes the door behind them and Harry gulps in disbelief at himself. 

  
The man crowds his space before he’s taking Harry into a kiss of soft lips. Harry yields himself as a hand is placed on his hip and there’s a nip to his lower lip before the man steps away from him.

  
“Can you get on your knees for me sweetheart?” He asks, tone light. 

  
Harry finds himself nodding before he’s lowering himself down, his knees pressing into the soft carpet. The man towers over him, stepping closer to him and running his thumb over Harry’s cheek. Harry gulps and attempts a smile as he runs his thumb over his lips. 

  
“Your mouth is gorgeous, sweetheart.” He sighs, pulling on Harry’s lower lip. “Would you mind unbuttoning my trousers for me?”

  
Harry nods as his hands come up and fiddle with his button and zipper, his fingers shaking ever so. The judge smiles as Harry pulls his trousers down the bulk of his thighs before he’s looking back up, as if to ask permission before pulling down his pants. He nods and Harry does just that, pulling the elastic waistband down before he slowly reaches inside and wraps his hand around the stiff girth he finds. 

  
The man moans at that before Harry is pulling his thick length out, pulling back his foreskin and staring at the swollen head, already leaking at the tip. Harry gulps again and looks up, meeting fluttering blue eyes and a nod.  

  
He leans in slowly and covers his teeth with his tongue before he places the head in his mouth. He wraps his lips around the sensitive flesh and suckles lightly, earning a groan as he tastes the bitter of his cock. He swirls his tongue over the smooth flesh and hands come down to crawl into his hair, tilting his head up so he’s looking the judge in the eye. 

  
His hat slips back on his head as small hands pull at his hair and push his head down so he takes his length deeper into his mouth before he’s hitting the back of his throat and Harry is fighting back his gag like Zayn had taught him to do. He takes him deeper, swallowing around the warm flesh and sliding his tongue along the underside as his throat works. He takes him deeper and deeper until his nose is pressing to the coarse hairs at his base.

  
“Fuck.” Is muttered above him and Harry feels a sense of pride as he swallows and starts at a rhythm of pulling off and sucking back down. He goes slow and teasing, like Zayn used to like, licking at his head when he pulls off and flicking his tongue at the sensitive place which had made Zayn go wild. 

  
He decides to go for Liam’s favourite trick next, sucking hard before pulling off and planting soft kisses up the sides of his length, letting his mouth be loose before he takes him back in.

  
The hands in his hair pull and Harry looks back up, eyes sticking to the blue as the hands start pulling and his hips start bucking ever so slightly so his cock slides over his tongue. Harry lets his throat relax as his hips push forward and his cock slides to the back of his mouth. 

  
Harry brings his hands up to press to the golden thighs as he takes control and starts at thrusting into his mouth, scratching at his scalp and keeping their gaze steady throughout. Harry feels the spit dribbling from the sides of his mouth and he wants to wipe it away, knowing he looks a mess. 

  
The judge presses forward completely so that Harry’s almost choking on his cock as his nose presses flat to his crotch. He blinks up at him and the man moans, long and drawn out, before he’s coming down his throat in long spurts. Harry hums around him at the feeling, his own cock hard in his shorts as he’s being yanked from his dick and his chin is tilting up so the judge can see him properly.

  
“You’re definitely too pretty to go home.” He murmurs, his voice tired and lazy.

  
Harry smiles as he’s being pulled to his feet and backed against the dressing table, his lips being claimed in a fiery kiss as a hand palms over his crotch. Harry briefly considers the fact that he should definitely not be coming in such expensive shorts before he realises he can’t hold it and his body is tensing, his cock spilling in his pants as his body sags back against the dressing table.

  
“I’ll get you through, don’t worry.” He kisses into Harry’s mouth and Harry smiles.

  
“Thank you so much, sir.”

  
“Call me Louis.”

  
+

  
Harry isn’t sure if Louis is going to keep his word as he stands on the stage, lights pointed directly at the twenty men on the three steps. Harry chews on his lip as the fourteenth man gets called to go stand in the top fifteen section. 

  
Harry feels himself deflate because he knows he won’t be getting in, not when there are men so much better than him standing next to him.

  
He looks down to his feet and sighs as the last name is called out, and.

  
It’s his. 

  
He gawps and there are pats on his back as he stumbles across the stage to the other fourteen men. Niall pats his back and Harry’s grinning.

  
The presenter rounds up the program and Harry can’t stop grinning and Niall is squeezing his wrist and Harry looks to the judges panel, meeting the bright blue eyes.

  
+

  
I told you.

  
The note on his pillow reads, bouquet of pink roses lying next to it. 

  
+

  
Harry walks off the stage and Walter passes him a towel as soon as he sees him to wipe the oil and glitter from his chest.   
Harry smiles, thinking he’s done well as Walter starts on stripping off makeup. He combs his hair to the side, brushing through it as he wipes the blusher from his cheeks. 

  
“Go get dressed.” Walter tells him, patting his back and Harry smiles at him, going to the rack to fetch his hanger. 

  
He pulls his swim shorts down his legs, standing naked in the busy room before he pulls on his pants and his jeans in quick succession. 

  
He pulls his sweater over his head and he still feels grotty from everything that’d been smeared over him to make his body look better under the lights and he wants a shower but he feels proud of himself and that makes it all okay.

  
He walks back to his seat at the long dressing table and finds Walter closing his makeup bag before he leans and Harry plants a kiss to his cheek.

  
“See you tomorrow, Walt.”

  
“See you, Chicken.”

  
Harry chuckles and picks up his satchel from his seat, flipping it open to drop his cellphone in before he pinches up a piece of folded paper. His brow furrows as he unfolds it, reading over the messy scrawl of _meet me in my room_.

  
Harry gulps.

  
+

  
“The judges are still torn.” Louis says, sitting at his desk and taking a sip of the brown liquor in his glass.

  
“What?” Harry asks, sitting awkwardly on the edge of his bed and knotting his fingers.

  
“I’m the only one who seems to think you’re capable of doing this. You’re very young and naive and the other judges aren’t so sure you can handle the responsibility. They don’t think you should be let into the top ten.”

  
“Oh.” Harry sighs, looking down at his lap and chewing on his lip. “I guess that’s fine then.” He says with a slight smile even though his heart is shattering.

  
“But I can fight for you, if you want it. I think you’re beautiful and the perfect candidate and as you’ve seen, I have the power to make you win. All you have to do is cooperate with me. I don’t want to force you into anything you don’t want, so you can feel free to back out and go home.”

  
Harry nods as Louis stands up and walks towards him. “I’m going to kiss you now, feel free to leave if you want to.”

  
Harry looks up to him as Louis cups his jaw, raising his eyebrows before he bends and leans in slowly. He kisses soft for a second before he’s dipping his head back, claiming his lips. Harry breathes out into his mouth as he’s being pushed backwards to lie flat. Louis pulls back. 

  
“Scoot up, sweetheart.” 

  
Harry does as told, moving up the bed until he’s lying against the pillows. Louis kneels on the bed, running his hands up his calves before he pulls his legs open. He runs his hands up his thighs, letting his thumbs press into the inner seam to spread his legs wider.

  
“Very tight jeans.” Louis muses, chuckling while Harry lies back and breathes through his nose.

  
Fingers are on his zipper, unbuttoning his jeans and pulling his jeans and pants down in one pull. His jeans are pulled down his thighs and the room air is cold on his groin as his jeans are shucked under his knees. 

  
Louis crawls up to lie next to him, leaning to kiss his lips. He rolls Harry more onto his side so they’re chest to chest.He breaks the kiss to spit into his palm, reaching behind Harry and spreading him apart. Harry gulps as wet is rubbed over his entrance.

  
Louis brings his hand back, holding two fingers to Harry’s lips and Harry stares at him a moment before he lets him slip his fingers between his lips. He sucks on them, getting them wet and slick before Louis pulls them back, placing a kiss to Harry’s pouted lips.

  
He rubs down Harry’s side, bunching his jersey up around his waist before his fingers are going back to where he spreads his arse. 

  
“May I?” He asks, dragging his fingers over Harry’s hole.

  
“Yeah.” Harry answers, letting his eyes flutter as he nudges his first fingertip in.

  
Harry comes with three fingers deep in his arse, massaging over his prostate slow and strong. He pants and tries to calm his breathing before he notices that Louis is jerking himself off while he watches Harry breathe. Harry inhales before letting his hand join Louis', stroking him until he has his own messy orgasm and he comes with a groan.

  
+

  
Harry is still surprised when he gets into the top ten.

  
+

  
Harry practices his baton twirling non-stop for the two days before the final talent performance, only getting distracted when the boys invite him out to the closest club for pizza, shots and fluorescent paint.

  
He gyms hard to work it off though, finding a friend in a Scotsman who takes him swimming to work his legs.

  
So by the time Harry has to perform, he’s painfully nervous and determined to not mess up.

  
This time his shorts and jacket are navy and the piping is gold and he has two batons rather than one. 

  
He executes every flip and twist with perfection and he even does the jump-split-toe-touch with straight legs. He manages to throw each baton up and catch them, kicking his leg higher than his head as he does. He ends with a straight-legged-spin and a double spin with his batons before he takes his final pose.

  
All the judges are smiling and Louis gives him a thumbs up.

  
+

  
All the remaining boys go out that evening in celebration, getting smashed in a night club on fruity drinks marketed for party-going girls. They grind together on the dance floor and Harry feels like he's flying as he sips what could very well be his fourth strawberry daiquiri. There are hands on his hips and a firm dick pressing to his arse.

  
They go swimming in the pool when they get back, the heated water warm against Harry's bare skin as they splash around in the lit up swimming pool. 

  
+

  
The night before the finals Harry's actaully happy.

  
He knows he won't win, not when he's competing with the men he is. But he's happy because he's  gotten as far as he has, even if he did cheat. 

He's accepted the fact that he'll probably place last, but it's still a great achievement considering how millions of men applied and he was one of the few to participate in the competition.

He packs his bag while Niall packs his own and gets tipsy on beer before they're both getting drunk and lying packed tight on Harry's bed, shoulder to shoulder with eyes on the ceiling as they pass a beer between them.

  
"I'm proud of you Harry." Niall says with a smile and Harry smiles back at him and kisses his cheek before there's a knock at the door and Harry's slipping off his bed to check who it is.

  
Louis leans in the doorway, eyebrow raised and suit jacket over his shoulder. Harry feels dizzy and he knows he smells like a brewery but Louis smells like vodka and he thinks he's fine. He pulls the door closed ever so slightly before Niall can see a judge standing in their doorway in the middle of the night before finals.

  
"Come to my room." he says simply.

  
"What would I tell Niall?" Harry asks, leaning back against the door and chewing on his lower lip, turning coy.

  
"I don't care, make something up." 

  
Harry nods and rolls his lip before he steps back into the bedroom, see-through lie on his tongue that falls unnecessary when he sees Niall snoring in the middle of his bed.

  
Louis' leaning against the wal opposite, drinking from a shiny pocket flask while Harry steps toward him and Louis is wrapping an arm around his waist and guiding him down the carpeted corridor. He walks him up the flights of stairs into the fancier section where more important guests stay, leading Harry to his suite door before he pulls out his keycard and ushers him in.

  
Harry takes a seat at the desk while Louis tosses his jacket over the couch and starts at unbuttoning his shirt. 

  
"Do you want to win Harry?" he asks, folding his arms over his chest and leaning against the desk, looking down at him.

  
"Yes?" Harry answers to him, replying as a question.

  
"I mean would you like to win? Is this important to you? Is it more about accomplishment or title. Because right now you're sitting at coming fifth, which is good but it could be better. You could win this Harry, you could be a star. You could walk away with partcipation and a prize for having the best smile, or you could walk away king with your crown and a trophy to show for it."

  
Harry nods up at him while Louis cards his fingers through his hair, scratching and pulling on his curls softly so that Harry goes pliant and soft.

  
"Do you want that Harry?"

  
Harry hums I response, nodding before he opens his eyes and smiles, his blood feeling warm in his veins.

  
"And do you know how easily you could get that Harry? Do you know how easily you could get the crown?"

  
Harry shakes his head while Louis pulls on his hair, making his chin tilt up so he can look him dead in the eyes.

  
"All you need to do is let me fuck your pretty little arse. Can you do that Harry?" 

  
Harry smiles at him and nods and Louis smiles down at him while Harry chirps out a sweet, "Yeah." 

  
Louis smiles at him fondly before he pushes off the desk to tower over him, bending his body forward to lean down and kiss him, cupping his jaw and tilting his chin up for his lips to claim. Harry kisses back drunkenly, letting his lips fall open for Louis' and licking his tongue back when Louis' snakes inside his mouth. 

  
Harry sucks on his tongue, the buzz of many beers making the feeling more electric. He reaches to hold Louis' elbow, the other clutching to the desk chair handle as he kisses back with quick fervor. 

  
"Bed." Louis moans against his lips, pulling him up from the chair and stepping him towards the mattress. Louis' hands are heavy on Harry's hips as he steps him so his knees press to the bed, bending as he's kissed to bend back.

  
Harry flops down against the bed, landing with a bounce and a giggle while Los smiles down at him. "Budge up," he commands, stripping his shirt from his shoulders and unbuckling his trousers. Harry complies and sits at the head of the bed, knees splaying wide. "Undress for me, please sweetheart."

  
Harry does as he's told, pulling his sweater over his head and wriggling his joggers down his hips before he pulls his pants down and off his thighs. He rests his back to the headboard and Louis grins lopsided as he sets a generous sized bottle of lube on the bedside along with two condoms.

  
Harry gulps before Louis pulls his own pants down his thick thighs, kneeling on the bed and making a motion with his hand to show Harry to lay down, "On your front please, darling." he commands him and Harry listens.

  
Harry settles into position, resting his head on his folded forearms as a hand rubs down his back, squeezing at his waist before a small smack lands to his arse. Louis smiles as he runs his hand over the pinked flesh before he's reaching for the lube. He lands another small smack, Harry sinking into the bed and seeming to purr at the feeling.

  
"You're no virgin right?" Harry shakes his head and arches his back, pushing his bum up against Louis' massaging hand. "Yeah? You can see." Louis replies, pulling his arse apart and bringing his slick fingers to Harry's pink rim.

  
Harry hums as he presses his fingers in, slipping them inside the warmth of his body as Harry hums in appreciation. He smooths over the curve of his back and down to his arse as he slithers his two fingers inside of him, spreading them slowly to make Harry's body fall loose around them. 

  
Harry bites at his lip, trying to relax as thick fingers stretch him open for something thicker. Harry giggles at the thought and a harder smack lands to his buttock. "You shouldn't be laughing when my fingers are in your arse." he warns and Harry's nods, letting his eyes flutter at the feeling.

  
"Feels good." he sighs, pushing his hips back as Louis adds another finger. Louis snuffs and rubs his fingers along his silky walls in search for Harry's sweet spot. When his fingers come into contact, he runs around it slowly, teasing his hardened bump before he grazes his fingers over and Harry mews into his arms.

  
Louis rubs the bump until Harry's hips are shifting in a rhythm and his own length is straining for heat before he gives his fleshy arse a soft tap and sits up, reaching for a condom before he's tearing it open and rolling it down his cock.

  
He coats it graciously before he turns back to where Harry is propped up on his forearms to watch him. Louis leans to kiss his fruit punch lips before he's shifting and moving to get in position behind him. He runs his hand down Harry's back, down his spine and marvelling at how his waist just flares into thin hips which hold his perfect, perky arse. He runs his hand over the small mound of it, squeezing it and enjoying the sound of Harry's sigh.

  
He settles forward, Harry getting comfortable enough to look back over his shoulder as Louis holds himself steady with one hand and spreads Harry with the other, kneeling low between his spread thighs.

  
He presses his head to Harry's pink hole, looking down to watch as he slowly slips into Harry's lanky body. He looks thick, pressing into him while Harry moans long and drawn out, head falling back onto his arms as Louis sheaths himself.

  
Louis brings his hand up to squeeze Harry's waist, pinching his soft skin as he draws out slowly. Harry's body is as hot and tight around his cock as he had been around his fingers, just now he's a lot tighter and he grips like a chokehold, clinging to Louis' length as he draws out just to thrust back in.

  
Harry goes pliant beneath him, his body moving with Louis' thrusts in perfect sync, fingers gripping to the bedding as his hips slide over the sheets, Louis hot and heavy inside of him, splitting him deliciously. 

  
Louis' hips try to tease the boy, sliding slow and lethal to make Harry unravel from his touch, but his body makes it hard and Louis finds himself dying to thrust into him with reckless abandon, to use him like he's nothing.

  
Harry makes sounds sweet as cinnamon sugar, little mewls and whimpers when Louis thrusts right, an odd moan here and there and the occasional keen when Louis' cock drags over his spot hard enough.

  
He curves and arches under Louis, his hips held stable to the mattress with too little movement to provide sufficient friction to get him off. Louis plasters himself down over Harry's back, his sweaty skin pressing to Harry's as he holds himself up on his elbows and lets his hips drag faster. Harry pushes back to meet his thrusts, Louis gaining advantage as he presses his knee to the mattress.

  
"I want to see your pretty face," Louis groans soft into Harry's ear, his voice coming out humid and hot over the flesh of his neck. 

  
Harry twists and pushes back, lifting his chest from the mattress with his forearm so that he can twist his neck and face Louis, his wide eyes meeting Louis'. Louis groans at the sight of his pouty lips gone red, his cheeks bright pink as short breaths puff from his lips. 

  
Little sounds work from his throat as Louis gives away all pretences of teasing and just fucks him hard and fast, his hair bouncing and his eyes glazing over as he takes it. Louis pins his hips down, thrusting hard and fast as he stretches forward to pull him back and kiss him. 

  
It's dirty with passion fuelling it, their tongues burning and their teeth sharp as they bite. Louis sucks on Harry's plump lower lip, digging his nails into his hip as the coil in his stomach twists tight and his body starts to feel the ache. Harry's sounds come from his throat and straight into Louis mouth as his ruts off against the duvet, keening high in his throat before his body is tensing and his hips are slowing and he gasps and pulls back from Louis as he shudders with his orgasm. 

  
His body grips tight and Louis takes what he will as he searches for his own release, winding the heat tighter with each quick and hungry thrust. Harry's body squeezes him along until the coil springs and Louis is grunting, his body shuddering as he comes into the condom, Harry's arse milking him.

  
Louis rolls off the boy, leaving him shaking against the fluffy duvet. He pants into the stuffy air of the room while Harry rolls over. He stares up at the ceiling, his chest streaked and his thighs shaking as he wipes the sweat from his brow and brushes his hair back. 

  
"You can stay if you promise to be out in time," Louis pants, his lungs hungry for oxygen. Harry looks over at him with glazed eyes for a second before he nods, his own chest heaving. Louis nods back before he pushes himself up on a shaky arm to pull off the used condom and switch off the bedside lamp. "Goodnight Mister UK," he yawns.

  
Harry nods against the pillow, his mind feeling fuzzy as he pulls helplessly at the duvet to cover himself from the cold that slowly seeps in.

  
+ 

  
He tries to act surprised when he wins, smiling for the cameras and the viewers and he feels on top of the world for a moment before he feels like a dirty liar. He smiles and he waves, getting a wink from Louis while he stands at the foot of the stage and fights the urge to cry because even if he is a cheater, he has what he's always wanted. 

  
Louis gives his bum a tap and pulls his body to his front so his back is to his chest before he's whispering in his ear.  
"Congratulations," he murmurs and Harry leans back against him as his lips brush his neck.

He's pulled away by publicists and Harry nods and goes to find Walter. 

  
+

  
His parents come to fetch him later, his body wrapped warmly in jumper and joggers as he carries his tog bag over his shoulder out to the car. 

  
He kisses Niall goodbye, a proper kiss with soft lips and fingers in his hair because it's been waiting to happen and Niall pulls back from where he has Harry pressed to the closet door to tell him he has to go. Harry feels his lip trembling but he kisses his cheek and waves him off before his mum is there to take his bags and pack the car. 

  
They still listen to _We Are The Champions_ as they drive the long road home and Harry feels alive and dead at the same time.

  
+

  
He wins all of the pageants he competes in after that, more for his title than for his talent. 

  
He gets a letter inviting him to participate in Mister World and he can't resist, knowing it will be a bigger challenge as he won't just be winning because he won Mister UK and that he'll be placing for his skill.

  
+

  
He's about to go on and his hands are shaking when there're hot lips to his neck and a scratchy whisper of "Hello sweetheart," is blown over his ear.

  
The voice makes him feel cheap and dirty and at the same me he feels himself smiling.

  
"Do you want to win this?" Louis asks him, holding him by his waist.

  
"Of course," Harry answers, leaning back against him.

  
"Meet me in my room tonight." 


End file.
